After
by Subtlynice
Summary: Hermione's point of view after certain events throughout the series. Seven missing moments, one from each book. An ongoing look at Hermione's character, her relationship with Ron and the close friendship they share with Harry.
1. After the Troll

**A/N:** This was the first piece of fanfiction I ever wrote. _Ever._ So please excuse me if it doesn't meet my normal standards. Bear in mind that I was fifteen when it was written.

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Chapter one: After the Troll

Walking quite quickly, trying to avoid the heaps of people jumping on the two boys ahead of her, Hermione made her way to the table of food in the centre of the room. People stared as she passed by, and Harry and Ron were still in danger of suffocating. _Did news really spread that quickly? _She thought to herself. _How is it possible that people should know what happened already, when the only witnesses were us and three teachers? Maybe the teachers have been possessed by Lavender and Parvati, and now consider it their duty to find out everything about everybody's personal lives. _Chuckling at this rather entertaining thought, Hermione jumped slightly when she realised she was no longer alone, and had reached the food table.

''S' no good just staring at it all,' said a voice from behind her, 'feasts don't eat themselves you know.'

Startled, she turned, to see Ron's unruly brothers Fred and George sporting identical grins and holding large plates of food in front of them.

'So, Miss Granger,' one of them began (and Hermione honestly had no idea which one) 'what's this we hear about our dear Ronniekin's running to your rescue earlier?'

'Cut it out Fred', said Ron, appearing with Harry, who appeared to have finally shrugged off his many fans. _Honestly, Ron did just as much, if not more than Harry, didn't he? So why is it Harry is getting all the attention? I really think Ron is good to put up with that. Despite what he called me earlier._ She thought, just as the words of her fellow Gryffindor first-year floated back to her- _"she's a nightmare, honestly, it's no wonder she hasn't got any friends."_ _Well it was true_, she supposed. _I don't have any friends. And I may have sounded a bit patronising to Ron in Charms, but really, I was only trying to help. It's not my fault he's been rotten to me for so long that every time I talk to him I end up sounding bitter and stuck up…_ but then she remembered that he had just saved her from a 12 foot mountain troll, which seemed to put their silly disagreement earlier into perspective.

Smiling at Ron and Harry, she helped herself to a few pasties, and sat down in a comfortable seat next to the fireplace. Surprisingly, a few seconds later, Ron and Harry joined her.

'Sorry about Fred and George', Ron muttered.

Hermione smiled, a little shyly, still not quite sure what to make of her new-found speaking terms with the two people she had been so infuriated with a few hours previously. Although she was longing to make friends, suddenly the awkwardness of the situation she was in felt like too much, and she had an overwhelming desire to simply grab a book from upstairs in her dormitory and hide behind it for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, the fireplace was no where near the staircase to the girl's dormitories, and she didn't want to excuse herself, for fear of sounding rude, and ruining the only half-friendly conversation she'd had with anyone here besides Neville. Neville seemed to ask her opinion on everything everyday, as though copying her every action would stop him melting his cauldrons or burning his ears.

'D'you think the food'll just stay there all night?' asked Ron with a hopeful, dreamy look on his face. Hermione caught Harry's eye and they both struggled to hide their snorts of laughter at the look on Ron's face as he steadily made his way through his mountainous pile of food.

'Honestly,' Hermione said, shaking her head sympathetically. 'Do you ever stop eating?'

Ron looked slightly hurt for a moment, and opened his mouth to retort, before he realised that both Harry and Hermione were grinning at him. He closed his mouth and smiled rather sheepishly, shrugging and continuing to cut up his food.

All of a sudden, Hermione didn't want to be sitting by herself, reading. She had just commented in a friendly way about Ron's eating habits, and received smiles from Harry and Ron in return. She settled more comfortably down in her chair, and listened with a smile on her face as the boys turned the conversation to Quidditch, slightly envying the way it was so easy for them to sit and talk, while she had no idea what to say in return to their comments. She'd never been friendly with anyone in her muggle school- they'd laughed at her hair and teeth, then stayed away from her when strange things began happening to those who took their cruel jokes too far.

'I'm sure you're lying,' said Harry to Ron, and Hermione had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, and realised she had drifted off into deep contemplation of her younger school years, paying no attention to the conversation taking place. _Great._ She thought. _Excellent, this is going well. I've lied to teachers for them, they've saved my life, and now I've been sitting here ignoring them._

However, they seemed to have been too engrossed in their Quidditch argument to notice, because Harry grinned at her, rolling his eyes at Ron, who glared stubbornly back, winking at her when Harry's back was turned, to show he was only trying to wind Harry up.

'Hermione' Harry began, 'Ron's winding me up, right? There can't possibly be 653 ways to make a Quidditch foul. That's just imposs-'

'Actually there are 700.'

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them- it was an annoying habit she'd picked up over years of insecurity, and doing her best to find out every last detail of information about any subject to make up for her lack of friends at school.

Ron and Harry were both gaping at her like fish. _Really, if they could see themselves!_ She thought, before continuing. 'There are seven hundred possible ways to commit a foul. Actually, all of them were occurred in a match in 1473, and some of them are quite ridiculous really-'

'Seven hundred? No way!' Ron said weakly, looking stunned. 'How d'you know that?! You don't care about Quidditch! You hated flying lessons!'

Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned slightly as she replied. 'I read, don't I? Quidditch Through The Ages. I'm serious, look it up for yourselves if you must. Ask Fred and George if you don't believe me. They saw me reading it earlier and started testing me on it. They've got the book too- I lent it to them. They're determined to outsmart me on their favourite subject.''

'This is madness,' Harry said after he had finally stopped making the stupid face he had been wearing moments earlier. 'I'm getting that book off Fred and George. Then we'll know for sure who's right.'

'Go ahead,' Ron called after him smugly as Harry made his way through the crowds of people, to where Fred and George were standing. 'Rather you than me. They'll probably make up some stupid excuse as to why Hermione's cleverer than them, and then try to sell the book to you.'

Ron glanced at Hermione and grinned broadly. 'You know that precious book of yours is old. I bet half of those fouls don't count anymore.'

'See, that's what Fred told me too.' Said Hermione, smiling triumphantly. 'Pity it was a 1990 edition. You know, it was the first time since I've met them that I've seen them lost for words.'

'Damn!' Ron moaned, 'why do you have to know everything? What kind of person goes around checking the publishing dates of their books anyway?'

'The kind of person who wants to learn accurate information,' retorted Hermione. 'Where would I be if I just read books from centuries ago?'

'Dunno, but I've seen that book you're always carrying around, quoting. _Hogwarts: A History._ It looks old enough to be auctioned off for twice the price of my house. Not that that's saying much.' Ron said, mumbling the last part.

Hermione pretended not to have noticed Ron's embarrassment and laughed. Ron looked at her, and then began to laugh as well. A moment later, after they had both stopped laughing, Hermione spoke again.

'Do you think this is strange?'

'What?'

'Us. Talking. Having a semi-friendly conversation.' _And using the word "us"_, she silently added.

Ron seemed to think about those questions for a while before answering.

'No.'

'No?'

'No. I mean, we did save your life and all that, didn't we? I reckon you'd have to be barking mad not to show a bit of appreciation after that.'

Hermione stared at him incredulously. 'In case you've forgotten, it was your fault I needed saving in the first place!'

'Oh yeah,' said Ron, looking embarrassed again, and averting his eyes to the floor. 'Sorry about that.'

Hermione immediately felt ashamed for making him look so depressed. 'I don't see why you should be,' she said, in a very matter-of-fact voice. 'I am a bit of a know-it-all aren't I?' She faltered slightly as she tried to find the right words. 'And I think I must have sounded a bit rude earlier.'

'Still, I should've…I mean, I shouldn't have-'

Ron broke off as Harry collapsed into the chair he had vacated a few moments earlier, and Hermione was pleased to see he was engrossed in a book.

Ron gave Hermione a shifty grin. 'Now look what you've done to my best mate. You've converted him! Just a few minutes of hanging around with you, and you're already a bad influence!'

'A good influence, you mean.' Hermione retorted, grinning slightly through her frown, 'because it makes a nice change from all the rule-breaking you two get up to!'

'That's a bit rich coming from someone who _lied_ to a _professor_ barely twenty minutes ago.'

Hermione opened her mouth to argue back once more, before realising what was happening, and smiling. Ron seemed to realise at the same moment.

'Guess we can't stop bickering even as friends, can we?' he asked, grinning in a lopsided manner.

Only one word seemed to stand out to Hermione as she smiled and started up a discussion with Harry about Quidditch Through The Ages.

_Friends._ Hermione Jean Granger had friends.

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**A/N:** Plain and simple fluff! Please _review_ and let me know what you think. I do allow anonymous reviews, and I welcome criticism, though I'd always prefer nice comments!

And if anyone reading this also reads my twilight fics, my Emmett point of view story is coming soon.


	2. After the Chamber

**A/N: **I put the conversation in with Hermione and Penelope, so that Hermione has a clear reason to know that Penelope is half-blood when she uses her name in book seven, (Malfoy Manor) and Penelope's name isn't on the muggleborn list. Also, I know that part of this story isn't actually 'After the Chamber', but that's because I wanted to include that conversation. And another thing- how was Nearly Headless Nick given an antidote? Anyone know?

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to JK.

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After the Chamber

Hermione put down the book and made for the exit, desperate to find Ron or Harry so she could tell them her news. She had almost reached the door of the library when her last conversation with the boys came back to her.

'_The voice! I just heard it again- didn't you?'_

With a sudden rush of fear and adrenaline, Hermione realised the Basilisk she'd just read up on would be out in the hallways. Rushing back to her book, she tore out the page she'd found her information on, not particularly caring whether Madam Pince saw her. However, while fishing in her bag for a quill and inkpot, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Wincing, wondering how she could explain herself in time, she turned to find herself face to face with a Ravenclaw prefect, not Madam Pince.

'Excuse me. I have just seen you demolishing this book. What, may I ask, is the reason for this?'

Hermione sighed. She'd just have to tell the truth. But quickly.

'We have to get outside,' she began quickly. 'There's a basilisk roaming the halls, we're probably the only two students who aren't outside watching the match. We have to get outside and get help- speak to Professor Dumbledore. There's a basilisk in the castle, that's how people keep getting petrified- don't ask how I know, it's a long story. But I need this information to give to my friends, so if you don't mind-'

She breathed deeply, and bent to scribble a single word, knowing that if this piece of paper reached Ron and Harry they would understand her meaning.

'But I-'

'You don't happen to have a mirror on you, do you?'

'A mirror?' the prefect asked, looking at Hermione suspiciously.

'Yes.' Hermione sighed.

The girl still looked suspicious, but seemed to realise how frantic Hermione was, because she handed a pocket mirror over.

'Thank you,' Hermione breathed gratefully, scrunching up the parchment she'd torn from the book, and fisting it tightly in her hand. 'Now, we need to find our way to the grounds together, okay? If we use your mirror to look around the corners we should be okay.'

'I'm sorry?'

'Just trust me, okay?'

The girl looked incredulously at Hermione for a while, then raised her hand and said solemnly, in a very Percy-ish manner, 'Penelope Clearwater.'

Hermione inwardly groaned, realising they were wasting even more time, but did the same. 'Hermione Granger,' she replied, shaking hands, then exiting the library with Penelope peering around corners using her mirror. 'Excuse me for sounding rude, but you're not muggleborn, are you?'

'Half-blood,' Penelope replied. 'So I won't have anything to fear from this Basilisk you say has been petrifying people, will I?'

Hermione looked up, impressed by how much of her banter the girl seemed to have taken in. 'I'm not sure it cares who gets in its way,' she replied, her voice steady, but her hands shaking. 'I'm muggleborn you see.'

Penelope nodded solemnly, and lifted the mirror once more, so they could both see around the corner.

A great pair of amber spheres- glowing brightly, captivating Hermione, and now she was entranced by them, scarcely noticing her surroundings, or her companion, her attention focussed completely on those eyes and how very dark everything was becoming...

'I knew it!'

No sooner had Hermione uttered these words than Madam Pomfrey had reached her bed and pushed her down, with what she must have assumed to be comforting words. Hermione briefly wondered why she was suddenly in the hospital wing, when moments before she had been in a corridor, gazing into the reflected eyes of a Basilisk- but she put that rather alarming memory to one side. She didn't seem to be injured, she had information and she knew she needed to find Ron and Harry as soon as possible. She wondered briefly whether Harry's Quidditch match was over yet. If it was, then she could tell them her information together.

'Dear, settle down now. You've just been revived, I'm sure this experience was terribly traumatic for you, but you must get some rest and let me revive Miss. Clearwater before an explanation can be given to all of you.'

'I need to see Professor Dumbledore. Please Madam Pomfrey, it's urgent! And I have to find Harry and Ron- I have to tell them what I've found out, I have to-'

'You have to stay calm,' Madam Pomfrey said, soothingly, but strictly. 'Professor Dumbledore will be here soon, but in the meantime you should relax.'

Hermione ignored the healer and sat up when she realised something odd.

'The parchment!'

Madam Pomfrey looked quite alarmed- Hermione was not the only one of her patients failing to do as they were told. Colin Creevey was jumping about, partly in excitement, partly due to the loss of his beloved camera. Filch was clutching Mrs. Norris to his chest and sobbing tears of joy, and she was very confused as to how Nearly Headless Nick was going to be given an antidote.

'I'm sorry dear..?'

'I had a piece of parchment with me before the Basilisk attack- do you know where the possessions I had with me are?'

But Madam Pomfrey seemed to be struggling to keep up.

'Basilisk? I'm sorry, I really must insist-'

'Hermione!'

The small red-headed figure of Ginny Weasley was being led into the Hospital Wing by her mother and father. She was in a distraught state, tears pouring down her cheeks- her whole body was shaking from her sobs.

'Ginny- what..?'

'Hermione,' repeated Molly Weasley, running to her bed and pulling her into a warm, motherly hug. Hermione felt a rush of warmth towards this person who brought up seven children, and still continued to show compassion towards others, but this was pushed to the back of her mind, as she was still very confused and slightly frantic with her need to find out what on Earth was happening. Although she was quite sure she had been petrified, she decided to start with a simple question, to work out what she would do next.

'Why am I here?'

To her horror and frustration, this only provoked more tears from Ginny. Mr and Mrs Weasley turned back to their daughter, who Hermione was surprised to see covered in filth. Madam Pomfrey turned away from Hermione and lead Ginny to a curtained area of the Hospital Wing, where she could have more privacy.

She groaned and rubbed her eyes. She still seemed to have the glare of the Basilisk imprinted on her eyelids, despite the fact she hadn't even looked at it directly. She made to get up again, when-

'_Hermione!_'

A red-headed figure was sprinting along the rows of beds towards Hermione- she leapt forwards in relief, then drew back uneasily, staring at him in horror.

'Ron- what- what happened to you? What have you done?'

Ron looked puzzled for a moment, and then seemed to remember that he was dripping with slime, quickly launching into a very confusing explanation, which was interrupted by Hermione many times.

'Well, we went down into the chamber-'

'OF SECRETS?!'

'Yeah- _shh_, keep your voice down- then Lockhart tried to Obliviate us-'

'_What!?'_

'Yeah- see, I told you he was a git, dunno _what_ you see in him, personality of a dung beetle, and he wears really girly colours-'

'Ron! You're supposed to be explaining what's happened to you, not why you don't like Professor Lockhart!'

'Oh- yeah, right- sorry.' Ron took a deep breath and started again, re-telling everything he and Harry had been through since Hermione had been petrified, with Hermione emitting loud squeaks and gasps at certain parts of his tale. When he explained (lowering his voice slightly and looking nervously over at the curtained area of the hospital wing) about Ginny's involvement, Hermione gave a particularly loud gasp, earning a stern look from Madam Pomfrey, who was trying to soothe an agitated and confused Justin.

'-and then he gave me and Harry Special Awards for Services to the School! How cool is that? And he told me to bring this coward to the hospital wing, so here I am. He's a bit too out of it to be of much use- kept rambling on mindlessly on the way here.'

Hermione looked around for who Ron was talking about, and saw Professor Lockhart just behind him, listening in to the story with much enthusiasm. When he saw Ron and Hermione looking up at him, he beamed.

'My, my- you're quite the hero aren't you?'

Hermione wondered why she had not noticed Professor Lockhart come in with Ron- after all; she did have a huge crush on her Defence Against the Dart Arts teacher. But then she remembered that Professor Lockhart was a fraud, and all of a sudden he didn't look quite so handsome. Especially now, covered in slime.

'Err…yeah- come on Professor, lets get you to Madam Pomfrey,' sighed Ron, pulling Lockhart over to the curtained area of the ward, where his sister seemed to have calmed down considerably.

'Hear that?!' Lockhart asked Hermione, gleefully. 'Professor! Me! Unthinkable! And yet, this dear boy tells me that my teachings are the sole reason for his successes! My dear boy, have you considered writing a book? I can just see it now: _Battle with a Basil leaf_! Of course I have no idea how you would go about getting published- but I'm certain it would make an interesting read!'

'Basilisk,' Ron corrected, staring up at Professor Lockhart wearily. However, it was quite obvious to Hermione that he was having the time of his life watching Lockhart in this state. Madam Pomfrey came bustling out of Ginny's area of the ward, and looked sympathetically at Professor Lockhart, although Hermione could see that she was also quite amused.

'Dear, dear- look at the state of you,' she began, clucking her tongue disapprovingly at the sight of the two people dripping slime in her ward. She had just cleaned their robes when the clearing of a throat put a cease to all the confused conversations still passing back and forth between petrified patients.

'I am sure you are all wondering what has happened.' Began a calming voice softly, and Hermione turned to see Professor Dumbledore at the front of the ward, beaming at them all. 'I have great joy in telling you that Hogwarts has fought back against the trouble in our hallways, and your attacker is now gone. For all those of you who feel up to it- we will be having a celebratory feast in the Great Hall, and I'm sure it would please everyone greatly if you could all attend.'

With that, he smiled softly and made his way across the ward to Ginny's bed. Ron turned from the scene and grinned down at her. 'I'll go find Harry then! You are coming to this feast thing aren't you? You have to- everyone'll be really pleased to see you.' He spoke so earnestly that Hermione couldn't turn him down- and she decided she could use a bite to eat, considering the last time she could recall eating was probably a month ago.

'Alright.' She said. Ron smiled at her again, then raced out of the Hospital Wing, earning disapproving calls from the portraits on the walls.

Hermione decided to rest for a while before she made her way down to the Great Hall, and when Ginny exited her section of the ward, red-eyed, but smiling sleepily, she decided to walk with her down to the feast. Ginny seemed nervous about this at first, but Hermione told her how Ron had filled her in on everything that had happened, and assured her that she didn't blame her for the attack one bit. After that, Ginny became quite chatty.

'It's really annoying,' she was saying as they came to the Entrance Hall. 'I just know Percy'll be fussing over me as soon as I get in there. I think I'll go and sit with my friends and ignore him if he tries to come anywhere near me.'

Hermione laughed, but stopped as they entered the Great Hall, which was a burst of noise. Most people were still in their pyjamas, and everyone seemed to be having the celebration of their lives. Gryffindor colours decorated the Hall, and as she reached the Gryffindor table, she saw two faces beaming up at her- one with glasses and a mop of black hair sticking up madly, the other with freckles and hair of a bright shade of red. Running to them she flung her arms around them and beamed.

'You did it!' She positively yelled, although given the racket in the Hall, she had to, to make herself heard. 'You solved it!'

Harry beamed at her as she sat between her two boys. 'Yeah- we couldn't have done it without your help though. That piece of paper told us everything we needed to know.'

Ron grinned. 'Yeah- and speaking of that,' he began, 'You violated a Hogwarts book, Hermione. I thought that was practically illegal for you.'

'Oh, shut it.' Hermione snapped back, smiling fondly at both of them. '_You_, from what I've heard- ventured out into the forbidden forest at midnight, wandered around the school wearing an invisibility cloak, broke into the staff room, hid in the staff room, threatened a teacher, entered a _girls_ bathroom, opened the Chamber of Secrets, went down into said Chamber, killed a Basilisk and still managed to earn hundreds of points for Gryffindor in the process!'

'Actually, only one of us killed a Basilisk,' Ron pointed out.

'And we didn't "break in" to the staffroom, it was open.' Replied Harry.

Hermione sighed wearily, but couldn't help the smile that broke across her face. They smirked at her and she promptly ignored their smug faces and began helping herself to food.

_Boys,_ She thought. _Honestly._

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**A/N:** Reviews make me happy. Go on, click the little review button, you know you want to! Again, remember, I was only 15 when this was written.


	3. After the Arguments

After the Arguments.

**A/N:** Well, I thought if Ron and Harry have a little voice in their heads nagging them to do their homework and using Hermione's voice, why can't Ron's voice be in Hermione's head nagging her to liven up? So I put that in for fun. And seeing as Hermione ends up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I decided she found her research for Hagrid interesting. Anyway, enjoy, and please review!

Oh, and I know the title's awful. But just give it a try will you?

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'Hermione!' Hagrid beamed. 'I wasn' expectin' ter see you today! Yeh told me las' week you'd be in class all day Tuesd'y!

Hermione shifted guiltily as she clutched her school bag and tried to look convincing. She _hated_ this. It was bad enough having to lie to Ron and Harry, but Hagrid too? She knew she was a terrible liar, even though this was an excuse she had used many times over the past year. She didn't think she would be able to look him in the eye so she gazed over Hagrid's shoulder at the Hippogriff in his hut and replied in what she was shocked to be a steady tone.

'I know, but Professor Vector gave us the afternoon off. She said she had a lot of essays from fifth years to mark and she has a lesson with them tomorrow.'

Hagrid beamed down at her once more, and Hermione yet again felt a pang of guilt at the trusting look on her friend's face. But what choice did she have? She couldn't very well tell him the truth- that she had _already_ gone to her class and then proceeded to wind back time, go to_ another_ class, then wind back time again just so she could spend some time with Hagrid before she had to go back to the castle to finish the piles of homework she had yet to finish.

'Well it's good ter see yer anyhow,' Hagrid said as she smiled back and entered the small cabin.

'I've got some more information for you on the case Hagrid,' she began, taking out a few of the thick volumes on magical law she had borrowed from the library. 'And I really think that we could use it to make sure Buckbeak gets cleared.' She yawned widely before dropping into a chair. After blinking heavily and sleepily a few times, she pulled herself together to hear what Hagrid was saying to her.

'Righ' then. I'll make us a cup'o'tea then, eh?'

'Yes please Hagrid,' Hermione replied politely. She then began sorting through the stacks of books she had brought with her, struggling to hide her yawns and forcing her mind to stay on topic. It was not that the work in front of her was boring- on the contrary, Hermione had found she rather enjoyed researching magical law- _the whole subject was fascinating_ –but she was just so tired from all her classes, and she found herself thinking almost wistfully of being back in a normal timetable- with Ron and Harry too –and she wished that she had someone to confide in. More than anything though, she wished Ron would stop being so silly and start talking to her again, so that Harry didn't have to always be stuck in the middle. Honestly, that boy infuriated her sometimes. He had absolutely no evidence whatsoever that incriminated her cat; he just wanted to pin the blame on someone. Was it her fault if Ron didn't like her cat? Or that he kept a ridiculously old and unfit pet?

_And yet, for some stupid reason I'm miserable without our fights. Our bickering, I mean- not like the fight we're having now. I miss bickering with him. How ridiculous is that? And I miss him calling me a know-it-all or begging me to let him copy my homework. It's pathetic. Almost as if I-_

'Hermione?' Hagrid asked worriedly, making her snap out of her trail of thoughts, rub her eyes and sit up properly. She had already started falling asleep in the common room; she would not start falling asleep when she was supposed to be using this time to help Hagrid. She'd learnt over the course of the school year that time was very important.

'Sorry Hagrid, I'm just a little tired.' She said as Hagrid passed her a mug of tea.

'Yer not feelin' too good Hermione? Yeh look as though yer might be comin' down with summat. I told yeh all them classes 'ave bin muddlin' up yer mind. Brilliant as you are, there's a limit to ev'ryone Hermione.'

'Hermione smiled weakly. 'No. I'm fine Hagrid. Just a little stressed and upset, that's all.'

Hagrid looked sympathetic. 'It's Harry 'n' Ron again then isn' it? I told yeh, they'll come 'round-'

Hermione's whole body trembled as her mug fell to the floor with a clatter. She gasped, then proceeded to burst into loud, wet tears. Hagrid looked shocked, and put a comforting arm around her as she wept, offering a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth to her. She smiled through her tears and accepted it graciously. Once she had calmed down enough to reply, Hagrid spoke.

'Righ'. You sit there an' tell me whats happen'd. I'm not lettin' yeh wave this off. It's obvious yeh've got somethin' pretty bad on yer mind, and yeh'll be needin' someone ter talk to. I'll jus' get you another cup'o'tea, shall I?'

Hermione sniffed, then nodded gratefully. Under normal situations she would have protested and cleared up the mess she had made herself, but she was too exhausted. She wondered if 'normal' was a word that even applied anymore, as she had felt like this for months now.

'Thank you Hagrid. I- I'm not quite sure what's wrong. I mean- I'm just so tired and miserable, and Harry and R-Ron keep ignoring me lately, and I'm worried I've not been a good enough friend to them and-'

'Rubbish,' said Hagrid, cutting her off gruffly, handing her another mug. 'If anyone o' yeh's not bin a good friend it's those two. A broomstick's not a good enough reason ter fall out with yer. An' from what I've heard about your latest fallin' out with Ron- well…le's jus' say I can't work out how tha' could be your fault, no matter what happened to Scabbers.'

Crookshanks did _not_ eat him.' Hermione protested adamantly. 'Ron has no proof of Crookshanks eating him- those hairs were probably left in the boy's dormitory on Christmas day, and anyway, Scabbers was looking old for a very long time. I bet Scabbers cut _himself_, then died somewhere else and Crookshanks had nothing to do with anything.'

Hermione winced. The whole argument sounded stupid when she was speaking the words aloud. Hagrid too looked uneasy.

'Look Hermione,' he said 'I'm not gonna take sides here. But I saw how upset yeh were when Ron almost got killed, and I know there's sure to be a point when you two get it in ter yer heads that cats 'n' rats 'n' broomsticks jus' aren't worth fightin' over. You'll see that in the end.'

Hermione briefly wondered what would happen to Harry if she and Ron remained fighting over Scabbers up until the end of their Hogwarts days, and couldn't stop herself from letting out a slight giggle at how absurd it was. A brief image came to her head of her and Ron as old-age-pensioners batting each other around the heads with each others walking sticks. She grinned widely at the thought, and Hagrid seemed pleased with this.

'There, bet it all seems a bit stupid now, yeah? I'll bet yeh anythin' the three o' yeh'll be laughin' about this soon. I tell yer what- why don' I have a word with 'em, eh? I could tell 'em what prats they've bin if yeh like.'

Hermione let out another small giggle. She wasn't a giggly girl normally, and she cringed inwardly at the thought of becoming one, but she was very sleep deprived and after a long sob, suddenly everything seemed very funny. 'I don't think that'll be necessary Hagrid, but thank you for the offer.' She replied, although Hagrid did not seem quite so convinced. She was about to protest once more when she sat up straight in horror.

'Hagrid! I completely forgot! I was supposed to be using this time to help you with Buckbeak, and I've just been telling you my problems instead!'

Hagrid shook his head and smiled. 'No, really Hermione, it's fine. Me 'n' Beaky've bin getting more than enough help from yeh already, and I reckon we've got a pretty good case t'gether thanks ter you.'

Hermione beamed at Hagrid's kind-hearted words, but then checked her watch with a sigh. She had three essays to finish and she hadn't even _started_ her Muggle Studies research on Electrical Appliances. Draining her cup of tea and cramming the books she had brought with her back into her bag, she stood up with a smile.

'Thanks, Hagrid. This has really helped me, and I know I should have been helping you today, but I'm awfully busy, and-'

Hagrid cut her off with a smile. Don't worry abou' it Hermione. Go on, get goin'. I don't want yeh ter be late fer a lesson. Merlin knows how yer manage ter get ter them all on time!'

Hermione let herself be steered to the door, yawning widely. Smiling back at Hagrid, she waved and began to walk back up to the school. Blinking through bleary eyes, she caught sight of a flash of red and a surge of emotions hit her. Seconds later, she felt a twang of disappointment when she saw Crookshanks waiting for her up at the castle steps. Gathering Crookshanks up when she reached him, she started to climb back up to the castle.

_**Well what did you think it was?**_ She asked herself. _**Ginny? Ron? Another Weasley? That's stupid. They're all in classes at the moment, and even still, Ron's not talking to you remember? He wouldn't be waiting for you.**_

_Shut up. _Another voice argued back. _I'm tired and overworked, and I can't be blamed for my deluded thoughts. Especially my thoughts involving Ron._

_**Except even when you're wide awake you seem to be having these "deluded" thoughts over a certain redhead, don't you?**_ Asked the teasing voice in her mind which often told her she was boring and bossy and needed to liven up. Oddly enough, it seemed to speak in Ron's voice quite a lot.

_Only because he's annoying._ She protested, weakly.

_**Sure.**_

_What's that supposed to mean?_

_**You tell me.**_

_Well I don't know._

_**I thought you knew everything.**_

_I do NOT know everything!_

_**Obviously.**_

_Well he is annoying anyway. I don't even want to talk to him right now._

_**Except you do. You admitted it to yourself about half an hour ago in Hagrid's Hut.**_

_Well…so what if I do? Can I help it if he's so infuriating that I miss having the chance to moan at him?_

_**Told you so.**_

_Oh shut up._

Rolling her eyes at her own overloaded mind, Hermione put a stop to her inward battle of thoughts, hugged Crookshanks tighter to her, and walked through the doors to the Entrance Hall with a smile.

* * *

**A/N:** Next chapter will be called 'After the Invitation' and it will be up shortly. Unfortunately, I won't be able to write the last three chapters for a while, but when I do, expect quick updates! In the meantime, I have two other Harry Potter stories that may interest you, and some stories from a different fandom too.

**Please review!!**


	4. After the Invitation

**A/N:** This was intended at first to be simply "After the Ball", but curiosity and my fondness for previously undone missing moments got the better of me, and I wanted to do something which related to possibly the funniest part of GOF ever:

'_There's something funny though…how could Rita Skeeter have known…?'_

'_Known what?' Said Ron quickly. 'You haven't been mixing up love potions, have you?'_

_-GOF, page 445 (UK edition)_

Because that would explain a lot to you, wouldn't it Ronniekins? And, on to the real funniness…

'_How did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?'…_

'_What?' said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk… 'And what did you say?' said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk a good six inches from his bowl because he was looking at Hermione._

_-GOF pages 445-446 (UK edition)_

So, there you are. I had to write this, in honour of JK's astounding ability to make me snort with laughter over her books. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to Jo. Even some of the quotes belong to her, from the chapter The Second Task.

* * *

After the Invitation

Hermione opened her eyes to dazzling lights and a strange feeling- not unlike the time when she had missed months of her school life after being petrified in second year.

_Something isn't right… I should remember…_

A tugging on her arm dragged her out of her uncharacteristically jumbled thoughts- someone had a strong hold on her upper arm and was towing her to the safety of the land. It was only then that she realised she was wet. And cold. And for some reason, she was in the lake with what looked like the entire student body of Hogwarts shouting incoherently at her.

_Is this some warped dream?_ She thought dizzily to herself, before the talk Professor McGonagall had given her, Ron and Cho Chang in her office came back to her.

_Oh. _Right._ So that would mean the person dragging me like this would be…_

'Herm-own-ninny,' Viktor said anxiously. 'Are you okay?'

Hermione turned and then jerked back slightly, alarmed at the sight before her: Viktor had attempted what appeared to be a very bad attempt at transfiguring himself into a shark, and his voice sounded oddly distorted through the shark head.

'I'm fine Viktor,' she replied, once she had gotten over the shock his appearance had first given her. 'Are _you_ okay? Was this task difficult? I'm afraid I missed it down there.'

Viktor laughed. 'I haff to wait for the judges to find out how vell I did. Ve are the second pair back from the lake.'

Hermione's smile vanished, as she climbed out of the lake, ignoring the fussing people around her.

'Second? But what about Ron and Harry? Were they the first back? Aren't they back yet?'

'Oh,' said a disapproving voice from behind her. Hermione span around to find herself face to face with the kind, but strict Madam Pomfrey. 'I should have known you'd be something to do with this Miss Granger. It seems like Potter and friends can't go a term without needing to see me, can you? I assume you were the hostage for him to retrieve?'

Viktor looked angry now that his face was back to normal, and more than a little offended by what Madam Pomfrey had said, for some reason unknown to Hermione. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual glum voice.

'She vos my hostage to retrieve, actually. Potter has not finished the task yet.' He said, and Hermione felt her heart sinking at his words. 'I vas told ve haff to see you after the task.'

'Oh, well yes. Here, here are your blankets, get wrapped up- you must be freezing. And you'll need to take this potion- oh, no wait! Miss Delacour!'

Hermione turned to see Fleur being held back from the water, where it was obvious she was frantic to return to. Even in this state, she still looked stunningly beautiful. Hermione noticed this with a twinge of jealousy, before Madam Pomfrey shoved two vials of a strangely smoking potion at her, which warmed her hands instantly. She then hurried off to where Fleur Delacour stood, still struggling.

'Herm-own-ninny,' came Viktor's voice from behind her, as she looked out onto the lake again. _The hour was up…_ _they should be here._

'Herm-own-ninny,' Viktor said again, and this time Hermione span around to face him. 'Could I haff a vord?'

Hermione smiled as best she could in the current situation and nodded- Viktor began to lead her away from the crowd gathered at the edge of the lake. After a while he stopped and turned to face her again. Hermione patiently waited for her to speak.

'Vell…' Viktor trailed off looking nervous, for some reason. Hermione took this as her chance to glance behind her, looking for any sign of her friends.

'I vos vondering… if you are not busy over the summer…vether you vould like…'

Hermione turned back towards him in shock… _surely he wasn't suggesting…I've only known him for a few months…_

'I've never felt this way about anyone else, Herm-own-ninny,' Viktor began, trying again. Hermione felt herself blush ridiculously, before he carried on. 'I vould very much like it if you vould come to Bulgaria over the summer holidays.'

Hermione was shocked- she opened her mouth to reply something (she was not quite sure what yet), but at the same time, there was a loud roar from the crowd. Hermione spun gratefully in the direction of the lake, and to her relief she caught sight of her two favourite people in the world- Ron and Harry. She beamed, temporarily forgetting the difficult situation she was in, and made her way towards the lake, but before she had taken more than a few steps, Madam Pomfrey had caught up with her and Viktor. She gave them both a disapproving grimace and lots more blankets.

'Here, take these,' she said briskly. 'You need it after what you've gone through today. Diggory- has that potion started to take effect yet?'

Cedric, who along with Cho had evidently also been rounded up by Madam Pomfrey –smiled and nodded. Madam Pomfrey seemed satisfied with his answer and turned to grab Harry, who had just made it onto the shore.

'Come here you,' she said briskly, as she wrapped a blanket tightly around him and force fed him the same potion Hermione was still holding in her hands. Hermione hastily put the potion down, out of Madam Pomfrey's sight, and looked anxiously for her other best friend. She sighed in relief when she saw him being hassled by his brother Percy, and smiled slightly at his obvious distaste with Percy's concern.

'Harry, well done!' She congratulated as she turned back to him. 'You did it, you found out how, all by yourself!'

'Well…yeah, that's right.' Harry replied. Harry's tone seemed distant, as if there was something he was keeping from her, but before Hermione could ask what was wrong, Viktor was beside her again, tugging on her stubborn locks of hair. Hermione turned to look at him curiously.

'You haff a water-beetle in your hair Herm-own-ninny,' he said in response to her questioning glance, looking glum, but Hermione brushed the beetle out of her hair and turned back to Harry. She had more important things to worry about before she could dwell on Viktor and his invitation to Bulgaria.

'You're well outside the time limit though, Harry… Did it take you ages to find us?'

Harry's answer was again, frustratingly short, as though he was keeping information to himself. Hermione didn't press the subject any further. She knew her best friend could be stubborn when he wanted to be.

As Harry turned to watch Dumbledore conversing with the merpeople in the lake, Viktor tried to get Hermione's attention once more.

'Herm-own-ninny?' He asked. 'About my invitation- think about it, von't you? I really vould like it if you could come to Bulgaria.'

Hermione felt a twang of pity for him- after all, she knew herself what it felt like to be crazy about someone who didn't return those feelings. That was the problem with Viktor. He was nice, and charming, but he wasn't…

'Yeah, yeah, a bit-'

Hermione span around- Ron Weasley was standing only a short distance away, looking up at Fleur Delacour with a peculiar expression. Fleur, in all her glorious gracefulness, beamed down at him, and kissed him on the cheek.

Hermione scowled at the look on Ron's face. _Honestly, it's not enough that he obviously doesn't return my feelings, but he has to go trailing after a veela too?_

Ron stumbled over to Hermione with a dazed expression on his face; Hermione turned away from him towards Viktor. Ron seemed to notice this- he glared up at Viktor who was too busy looking towards the judges to notice.

Ludo Bagman's voice echoed across the grounds, startling Hermione and capturing the crowd's attention. Hermione grudgingly clapped Fleur as her name was announced, and clapped somewhat cheerfully as Cedric's score was given. She made an extra effort to look enthusiastic when Viktor was given forty points, and he seemed to accept it, smiling down at her in a way that made her feel slightly uneasy. The muddling turn of events had left her dazed and confused. All she really wanted to do was sit by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room with a good book, and try not to dwell on the fact that sooner or later she would have to reply to Viktor's invitation. She just hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed.

Harry's points were announced next, and this time Hermione really did clap. With the way things were going, it looked as though Ron may be right- maybe Harry really could win the tournament!

'There you go, Harry! You weren't being thick after all- you were showing _moral fibre_!' Ron teased, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle as he said it. Viktor once again called her, but she ignored it, still cheering gleefully. She really didn't want to have to speak to him just yet. Viktor was lovely, and she was not in the most tactful of moods with him now. If she had this conversation now, she might say something rude or hurtful and regret it later.

Madam Pomfrey luckily came to her rescue, with yet another blanket. She began to shove Hermione up to the castle, and Hermione welcomed this, wanting the warmth the castle would bring. Madam Pomfrey was still muttering angrily about putting young children through such harsh weather conditions, but Hermione blocked her out, concentrating instead on the voices of the people next to her.

'Seriously Harry,' Ron was saying, shaking his head. 'Of all the stupid things to think! As if Dumbledore would let anything happen to us!'

Hermione smiled involuntarily. 'I'm sure Harry thought it was for the best.' She said simply. 'It must have been a very dark atmosphere down there. I'm sure would have been terrified.'

'Liar.' Harry accused, but he smiled; grateful for the support. 'It was just the nerves really. Don't bug me about it, okay. I'm just relieved I don't have to do anything until the end of June.'

Hermione was shocked by this statement, but decided not to press the issue. Of course, he did have a lot to do if he wanted to get through the final task unscathed, but for now she would leave her friend in his dazed, calm and happy state. What she was really interested in was how he had managed to find a handy stash of Gillyweed so quickly before the task. For now though, she was content to just walk beside her two best friends as they made their way towards the castle.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry, but this is my last update until late June- I have too many exams to worry about right now! I hope the people who have enjoyed this story will look for it again in about a month, and in the meantime, please review!

One more thing: This story was written just after I found out that Robert Pattinson (and I'm sinking into a dazzled pile of mush just thinking about him) who plays Cedric Diggory, would also play Edward Cullen in the Twilight movie. I love the twilight cast, and so in my first draft of this chapter there was a lot more Cedric than intended. In the end, I cut it because it wasn't necessary, but I just thought I would share that information with you! If I have time, I may post my Cedric-centred outtake on my page.


	5. After the Ministry

Author's Note: My sincerest apologies on the long delay. What with GCSE exams, moving house, losing the internet for an entire month and- dare I say it?- other fandoms, I'm ashamed to say that I haven't written nearly enough Harry Potter fanfics. So this 'After' moment comes much later than expected, but hey- better late than never, right?

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK. Everything except Winking Hergopools and Bobby Tressfield- I made them up myself. Aren't you impressed?

* * *

**After the Ministry**

Harry stood up slowly, his face masked and emotionless. Hermione sighed quietly to herself. _Not again._

"…found out what was in it either- where are you going?" Ron asked, stopping his sentence short as Harry rose.

"Er- Hagrid's," Harry replied, his voice as tensed as his expression. "You know, he just got back and I promised I'd go down and see him and tell him how you two are."

Ron looked upset, but he seemed to understand. Harry was in one of _those_ moods again. He was still brooding; still mourning. None of the people in this room could offer him the right kind of comfort right now.

"Oh, all right then. Wish we could come." Ron said, staring wistfully at the bright summer's day outside.

Harry turned to leave and Hermione called out to him.

"Say hello to him for us! And ask him what's happening about… about _his little friend_."

Harry merely waved, and Hermione settled back down, worried for her friend. What was that wave? Understanding? Dismissal?

Ron slouched back down too, with a grumpy sigh. Luna stared thoughtfully up at the ceiling. Ginny shook her head in sympathy. Neville looked down at his hands clasped in his lap and scuffed his trainers on the floor nervously.

"I hate this." Hermione muttered under her breath. The others looked towards her. None of them had to ask what she was talking about.

"There's nothing we can do." Neville said quietly, and Hermione felt a stab of pity and shame. Of course, Neville of all people would know that.

"I wish there _was_ something we could do though." Hermione continued, shaking her head. "I mean, we knew Sirius too- well some of us did –but Harry-"

"Harry knew him better than we did." Ron finished. "But Hermione, we can't keep trying to bring Sirius into every conversation we have with him. He'll talk to us about it when he's ready."

"But _when_ will he be ready?" Hermione groaned in frustration. "I _want_ to help him, but if he keeps blowing us off this way, then-"

"Hermione, relax." Ginny said soothingly. "You can't keep stressing out about this. He'll talk to you about it in time, but right now it's a lot for him to take in. This wasn't like a normal death, with a funeral and a body, this was blunt and final. He needs to mourn for Sirius in his own way."

Hermione looked at Ginny and saw that her eyes were sparkling- not with tears, but determination.

"Ginny," she began soothingly. "Harry's own way of dealing with things tends to be the wrong way."

Ginny smiled wryly. "That's true enough," she admitted, and Hermione wondered what her friend was thinking of. Maybe Harry's stubborn silence at Christmas? Whatever it was, it didn't concern her.

The five of them sat in silence for a while. The day was peaceful indoors, as most students were outside, soaking up the summer rays of sunlight before autumn could come. But they themselves were far from peaceful, each of them concerned for their conflicted friend.

"I've got to get back." Ginny said after a long time, breaking the silence. "I told mum I'd owl her daily about your conditions. I'd better do that now- she'll be worrying if I leave it any longer."

"I'll come with you." Luna said, seeming to come out of a trance at Ginny's words. "I have to send an owl to daddy. He'll be very interested to know about Bobby Tressfield's fainting fit earlier today. It seemed as though Winking Hergopools were behind it, but I can't know for sure…"

Neville smiled at this. Ron grinned and Hermione muttered under her breath, "Or Fred and George have been sending more skiving snackboxes via owl delivery."

"Perhaps." Luna said, smiling serenely and skipped out, oddly gracefully. Ginny followed her looking bemused. Ron waited until they were out of sight before laughing and shaking his head.

"If I didn't know better Hermione, I'd say you just made a joke." He grinned. "Those potions must be working."

"Oh shut it." Hermione sighed, slumping down on her bed wearily. "And anyway, that _was_ a joke."

"No it wasn't. Fred and George really _are_ sending skiving snackboxes to Hogwarts. I know better than to think it was a joke because Tressfield is fine now. Neville saw him."

"That's right." Neville piped up from between the beds. "I saw him on my way here. He was getting pretty badly told off by McGonagall for truancy."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, if Luna passes them, she can explain to Professor McGonagall that it wasn't truancy at all. Just a few _Winking Hergopools_."

Ron and Neville both laughed. "That _was_ a joke!" Ron beamed. "I'm proud of you Hermione."

Hermione ignored the little flutter she felt at this- it certainly didn't help with the pain and it was ridiculously unfounded anyway.

"I try." She muttered sleepily, closing her eyes.

She didn't open them, but after a few moments she heard the scrape of a chair being moved across the tiled floor.

"I'd better go too." She heard Neville say quietly. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I'll give these essays to our professors tomorrow. Would you like me to collect some more assignments for you while I'm there?"

Hermione didn't look up; she was too exhausted from her latest round of potions, but she smiled gratefully at Neville's kindness.

"Yes, please, Neville."

Ron snorted in mock horror and she swore she could almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"Bye then," Neville called, and she heard the hospital doors open quietly before swinging shut again. Sighing, she settled back into the lumpy hospital bed and succumbed to the sleep that had been threatening all afternoon to overtake her.

It was very dark when she woke up. Hermione blinked frantically, trying desperately to clear the fog that had settled over her eyes.

"Ron?" She asked, turning to the bed beside her.

He wasn't there.

Instead of finding her friend, when she turned Hermione found herself facing a door. Puzzled, she grasped the handle, then leapt back in alarm. The handle was blazing hot.

Gasping, she clutched her burning hand to her chest. She was about to turn back to the hospital wing, with the intention of finding Ron or Harry or maybe Madam Pomfrey, but found that the burning was spreading- the whole of her left arm now felt like it was on fire…

She pulled her arm back, gasping in horror at what she saw.

The Dark Mark.

"NO!" She screamed, sitting up suddenly and yanking her bedcovers onto the floor.

Oh. She thought with relief. Just a dream.

Gingerly, wincing, Hermione pulled herself up and made to pick up the fallen covers. But a strange beige orange-topped blob got there first.

"Arrggh!" Hermione screamed croakily. Her vision was still blurred from sleep and she couldn't make out what this strange creature was. Crookshanks, perhaps?

"Hermione, shh!"

She recognised that voice instantly.

"Ron?" She whispered. Instantly, the beige blob turned redder and Ron's flushing face came into focus.

"I- er- Are you alright, Hermione? You were kind of… screaming."

He passed Hermione the covers and she made to sit back down, then winced at the pain that shot through her midriff.

"I just… had a bad dream." She said truthfully.

"Oh." Ron said awkwardly, but he didn't press the situation. Hermione sighed. He was obviously just worried for his friend, that was all.

She turned away from him, suddenly embarrassed, worried that somehow her thoughts or face would betray her and she would blurt out something pathetic or stupid. Why did things always have to be so _awkward_ with them?

_Oh. Right. Because he's not just your best friend, is he? He's_ Ron_._

"Was it…" Ron seemed to struggle for words, as if he was uncomfortable with whatever he was about to say. "Was it about… the ministry?"

Hermione nearly smiled. She knew how much he hated talking about things like this. It was sweet of him, really, to make the effort.

"Sort of." She admitted. "It was about all of it. The ministry, the Death Eaters… Voldemort…"

Ron flinched.

"Oh, come on," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows he's back now, you're going to be hearing it more than usual. You might as well get used to his name, like I have."

Ron shrugged. "Things are going to get bad enough. I don't want to think about stuff like that."

Hermione thought those words through. There was something she was afraid of, and she knew that she had to discuss it with Ron, away from Harry, but she wasn't sure how to phrase it.

"I'm worried. Things are going to get pretty bad, aren't they?"

Ron was silent for a moment. When he finally did answer, he spoke slowly and sounded more serious than Hermione had ever heard him before.

"Yeah. It looks that way."

"I'm worried…" Hermione wondered what the best way to relieve her fears would be. "I'm worried about Harry especially. About what might happen if…"

"If Harry gets too caught up in this war?" Ron asked. "Yeah, that's been on my mind a lot lately, too."

Relieved that he seemed to understand, Hermione continued.

"Harry's a fighter." She said. "He understands Voldemort, he knows his weaknesses and I have faith in him to do the right thing; the moral thing when it comes down to a fight."

Ron said nothing.

"But, Ron… _I'm_ not a fighter. Defence Against the Dark Arts is my worst subject. And I want to do the right thing, I want to help Harry, but… what if I can't?"

It had been bothering her for a while now; it felt good to let it out.

Ron didn't snort or joke around or make a scathing remark the way he normally would. He seemed to sense that this was important to her.

"You'll help Harry out any way you can."

"But what if I _can't_?" She asked, getting slightly louder with her frustration.

"Hermione, you can." Ron replied, looking slightly fierce. "You're not a fighter but you're brave and smart and _good_. You'll fight anyway, because that's just the person you are."

Hermione was shocked and flattered. She opened her mouth, intending to thank Ron, but found that she couldn't quite speak. Instead, she gawked. He seemed to only process his own words after a few seconds.

"I mean- well- er… you're a good friend to have around in a crisis, Hermione." He said in a slightly gruffer tone, his ears turning red as he spoke. "And Harry knows that too."

They were both silent for a while.

"Thank you." Hermione said softly. She knew that what he had said didn't mean the same things as they did for her, but she was thankful anyway.

"D'you really think it'll get that bad for Harry though?" Ron whispered in the darkness after a while. It sounded as though this was something he'd been thinking about for a long time too.

"Yes," Hermione replied truthfully.

Ron was quiet for a moment.

"Then we'll be there for him." He said. "Agreed?"

Hermione squinted. What she could see of his face looked determined.

"Agreed." She whispered again.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to all the people who've actually stuck with my 'After' stories. I want to give you all a great big apology- I really didn't mean to leave it this long.

The sixth 'After' story will be called 'After the Imitation' and I'm about halfway through it. I'm hoping it'll be up much quicker than this one was.

Sorry again- I know it must have seemed like I'd died or vanished off the face of the Earth or something.


	6. After the Imitation

A/N: This story is my personal tribute to Luna, who rocks. It has a very different feel to it than all my other 'After' stories. I normally shove as much laughs in as I possibly can, but sixth year was hard for Hermione, so I wanted to make this one a little sadder. Personally though, I think my third-person angst needs a little work.

Also, JK came up with the pencil case idea. I don't really get it- why would Hermione have a pencil case if she writes with quills? - but I wanted to make this story as canon as possible.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of the characters belong to me.

* * *

After the Imitation

As the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Hermione made no attempt to conceal her relief. Her eyes were swimming with tears and she blindly grabbed at a few books on the desk before her, cramming them into her bag and sprinting for the exit without looking back. Once outside the classroom, her suppressed tears rolled down her cheeks and she shook uncontrollably. Knowing that the corridor she was standing in would soon be full of curious students, she slung her bag over her shoulder and ran to the nearest staircase. The tears continued to flow as she made her way down one flight of stairs and through another corridor without the faintest idea of where she was heading.

Though her tears blurred her surroundings, her memories were as clear and sharp as ever, and a string of pictures ran through her mind- Lavender Brown's gloating face, Ron sneering down at her, the both of them _together, kissing_… and the latest betrayal- Ron's cruel mimicking stunt which just proved it for Hermione. He_ didn't_ care at all. Not in the slightest.

Classroom doors were opening along this corridor now, and she turned, anxious to find a place to let out all her frustration and misery and anger in private.

Blinking back tears, Hermione only just made out the ladies' bathroom symbol indented into a door on her left. She hurried through it, and to her relief found the bathroom deserted.

Flinging her bag across the room, she sank to the floor with an only slightly suppressed cry. The noise of her bag of books hitting the cold slabs of stone echoed around the room and she moaned in frustration.

_Great._ She thought bitterly. _ Everyone_ _will have heard that from outside. That's all I need- an audience._

She was suddenly reminded of why she'd sought out solitude in the first place, and sobbed freely, not bothering to conceal how deeply hurt she was. Loosing herself in the bitter teenage angst she'd never really experienced first-hand before, she lost track of time. It was funny, really. All those times she'd rolled her eyes at sniffy, swooning teenage girls, dabbing at their blotched mascara and lamenting over high school crushes they'd dreamt would actually go somewhere. And now she herself was stuck in such a position. It was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach, but sadly not enough to stop the tears from flowing.

"Hello?" Echoed a dreamy voice, startling her out of her miserable reverie.

Hermione moaned again. That voice belonged to someone she was in no mood to converse with. Company was the last thing she needed, but if that company were _Loony Lovegood_, her depression would surely hit a new low. Sure enough, Luna appeared from around the corner, unfazed by the sight before her and bopping her head to a rhythm Hermione didn't hear.

"Hermione." Luna stated, as though commenting on the result of her exploration of the bathroom chamber.

"Y-yes, I'm f-f…" Hermione wheezed, gasping for air between sobs. Luna said nothing- she merely smiled serenely and sat down on the wet stone floor, cross legged, facing Hermione.

"I- I…" Hermione tried and failed to produce a reasonable response to Luna's silence, but this didn't seem to faze her new companion in the slightest. She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully, but said nothing. Slightly uneasy with Luna's intense stare, Hermione could do nothing but stare adamantly in the other direction.

Surprisingly though, Luna's presence seemed to help. Hermione managed to calm her sobs until she was somewhat coherent.

"Wha-what are y-you doing here?" Hermione choked.

Luna's expression did not change- she had been eyeing Hermione with apparent interest. Slowly, she replied.

"I heard you crying. I wondered what the matter was."

"O-oh." Hermione hiccupped. "It's n-nothing. Ju-just…"

She gulped. Tears were still trailing down her cheeks and Luna's insistent staring was starting to make her feel very self-conscious.

Scrambling up and grabbing her bag, she pulled out the first thing she found- a pencil case – and wiped her eyes hurriedly on it.

She turned around to find that Luna hadn't moved; she was still sitting on the stone floor, now twirling a pebble around in her fingers. She reminded Hermione oddly of a child- the epitome of innocence and curiosity. In that moment, Hermione felt compelled to walk back to Luna and sit on the floor beside her. Luna wasn't surprised by this. She wasn't fazed when Hermione started talking either.

"It- it's R-r-on." Hermione managed through the tears. She wasn't quite sure why she was admitting this- especially to Luna, of all people. Maybe she just needed someone to talk to. Someone who would never repeat a word of what she admitted. Someone who wouldn't judge her.

"R-Ron W-W-Weasley." Hermione continued. "H-he's…he's b-been…been…"

She wavered, before dissolving into sobs once more. She couldn't do it. Luckily, her companion didn't pry.

"There, there." Luna muttered vaguely. She was so quiet that Hermione couldn't be sure if she had really spoken or not. She felt a small, frail hand patting her on the back every so often. To her surprise, this actually made her feel considerably better. She almost forgot about Ron's treachery.

Almost.

"Did he say something mean or rude to you?" Luna asked. Hermione looked up at her, but Luna was gazing up at the ceiling, seemingly uninterested in the answer to her question.

"Y-yes." Hermione said.

"I thought so." Said Luna in a thoughtful tone. She then began to hum to herself softly, still patting Hermione on the back vaguely. Hermione stared. But Luna's question had caused her to remember something unpleasant.

"Luna?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm?" Luna murmured. She turned her head to face Hermione, as if she had forgotten and only just remembered that she had company. Her wide eyes searched Hermione's face in surprise.

"Sometimes… sometimes people say rude or mean things to you, don't they?" She asked, shifting guiltily. She herself had been quite rude about Luna on occasion.

"Yes." Luna stated simply, as if Hermione had been commenting on something completely blasé, like the weather, or the day of the week. She seemed to realise though, that Hermione wasn't quite finished, because she didn't turn away.

"P-people you…care about?" Hermione asked weakly.

Luna blinked. She didn't answer for a long time. Then she spoke and her voice was oddly soothing.

"Harry swore at me once, do you remember?" She asked, and Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't suppose you do. It doesn't affect you." She thought some more, and said; "My mother was never rude to me. My father has never been mean to me either. The only one of my friends who has ever been rude to me is Harry, and he was having a very bad day at the time."

"I'm sorry." Hermione muttered. She didn't have to explain to Luna that she was sorry for more than Harry's thoughtless words one day.

"Don't be." Luna sang. "I imagine that what you are feeling is much worse than an insult from a friend."

Hermione stared at Luna's wide-eyed, understanding face. It occurred to her that, with Luna's open minded accepting view of the world, she saw a lot more than most people. And a lot more than she ever let on.

"Yes." Hermione said automatically, and then she bit her lip. That one word was practically a confession. She'd never told anyone, not even Harry or Ginny, though she knew that they saw straight through her. But they'd never mentioned it, and then to tell _Luna_, of all people…

"I h-have to… to…" Hermione cast around wildly for an excuse to leave, but came up with nothing.

"Of course." Luna said cheerfully, as if Hermione had just given her a perfectly legitimate excuse for leaving. She stood up quietly as Hermione sniffed, scrambled up, and swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Th-th-thank you." Hermione said gratefully.

Luna simply smiled in return. They exited together, Hermione still swiping at her eyes with the pencil case, and Luna patting her every so often as they went.

* * *

A/N: This is the shortest of my After stories so far, but I thought it was a nice note to end it on. Please review!


	7. The Aftermath

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has carried on reading these stories right until the very end. After the Troll was my first ever fanfic, and since then I've written present tense, first person, different fandoms… but I always knew I'd finish this series here. The aim was to improve my writing, and I think it's definitely getting better with each story I write.

My inspiration for this piece comes from a picture on artdungeon[dot]net. If you read this story and then check out the beautiful artwork there, you'll know straight away which one I was inspired by.

* * *

The Aftermath

"Hermione, are… are you sure about this? I mean… this is _big_." Ron stood at the fireplace in the small, shabby kitchen of The Burrow, pot in hand and a terrified expression on his face. Hermione would have laughed if she didn't feel exactly the same way.

"We've got to do this sooner or later," she reminded him. "Harry and Ginny left two hours ago. And we agreed we'd do it _today_."

"Right," said Ron, taking a deep breath and reaching his hand into the pot, before withdrawing it quickly and turning back to face her. "Wait-"

Hermione sighed. They'd been standing here for about five minutes now, while Hermione nudged him forward and Ron took a few steps back. Truth be told, she knew she could go first and he'd follow instantly. But she was just as scared as he was to face what was out there.

Cameras. Reporters. Rita Skeeter.

_Gulp_.

"I just remembered-" Ron began, about to make another excuse about needing to feed Pig, or forgetting to lock the already-magically-sealed back door, no doubt. Hermione cut him off quickly.

"Ron! We promised Harry! We're late already and we all agreed on this time weeks ago. There's no point in putting it off any longer."

Ron's shoulders drooped down, admitting defeat. Hermione couldn't help it- he looked so scared, so lost. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him.

"Mmm," Ron sighed, burying his face into her bushy hair. Hermione blushed, and she could have sworn she heard- no, _felt_ –him chuckle.

Things with Ron… well, they'd been _interesting_ to say the least. Sure, it had been hard at first. It was still hard. They were both still mourning. And there was so much to be done- she hadn't ever really thought about _the aftermath_ before. What happened after the war. To be completely honest, she hadn't expected to make it that far. So when Harry had finally defeated Voldemort, when the cloud of overwhelming, mind-shattering joy and relief had begun to ebb away, and the pain and grief took their place, she was left feeling so very unsure of herself. What could she do now, in a world so utterly destroyed? How could she help to pick up the pieces, when there were so many things needing fixing? People who said time slows down after a war were wrong. The aftermath wasn't the end, it was just the beginning of a new array of problems. There never seemed to be _enough_ time.

And how in the world was she supposed to find the time to worry about everything else when her mind was still full of _that kiss_?

She'd felt awful at first- Ron's brother had just died. Fred, a man she'd regarded as her own annoying, charming, lovable older brother, was lying cold beside fifty-four other bodies, and all she could think of was Ron's lips, warm and urgent on hers. That wasn't right. It was terrible of her. There had to be councillors for this kind of thing.

It was only after seeing Harry and Ginny embracing as if they'd never let go, watching Fleur racing across the hall to Bill, and kissing him fiercely, noticing the way Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy clutched each other and their son ever close to their side, that she realised something.

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Maybe this one-track mind was a _normal_ part of aftermath.

And after she'd discovered that Ron had been struggling with a similar dilemma, she'd realised why people behaved this way. It was so much easier to cope with the pain if you still had someone you loved to mourn with you.

The now familiar, but still just as wonderful sensation of Ron's lips against her hair brought Hermione back to the present with an uneasy jolt.

"You're not distracting me that way," she grumbled. "They've probably been waiting five minutes for us already!"

Ron snorted. "You're never late anywhere," he protested. "You can afford to be a bit behind just for this one meeting."

Hermione wiggled free from his arms and glared at him, hands on hips, eyes narrowed in disdain.

"Ron! This is important! Harry needs us! Do you really expect him to just-"

Hermione was cut off by the sudden presence of Ron's lips on hers. Annoyed and stressed as she was, she couldn't help but become sidetracked and… and… just… _overwhelmed_ as he pulled her closer into his arms and his warm hands found their way into her unruly hair. He obviously knew he had sufficiently distracted her; his lips curved into a smug grin as they parted hers so very slowly.

_Mmm_, Hermione thought, as she started to relax into the kiss. _Well, maybe they could stay for a little while longer…_

When Ron finally pulled away, Hermione was shocked to note that he actually appeared abashed.

"Sorry," he muttered, with an embarrassed smile, running a hand through his ginger hair as his ears turned that tell-tale shade of pink. "You're just… so cute when you get all riled up like that."

Hermione smiled, but blushed herself. She still wasn't used to this… this honesty when it came to her feelings. After years of burying her emotions behind her bookish demeanour, it felt strange to finally be set free. She wasn't sure she was coping with it at all well, but she didn't care. It was strange and confusing and terrifying- but it was also the best thing in her life right now. The best part of their aftermath was that it was not just hers. It was theirs- hers, Ron's… even Harry's and Ginny's and Neville's…

Not for the first time that afternoon, Ron sighed suddenly, and grabbed the pot from the mantelpiece once more.

"Right," he said, looking determined. "I reckon we should just go for it. Just… floo right in there and ignore everyone and everything until we get to Harry."

"Finally!" Hermione muttered, shaking her head with a small smile.

* * *

"Why did we agree to meet Harry in Diagon Alley, anyway?" Ron grumbled, as they exited the Leaky Cauldron together, _tergeo_-ing the soot off their robes with their wands. "I mean, it's not like we _had_ to make a public appearance to get the press off our backs. And why did Harry and Ginny leave so much earlier than the rest of us?"

Hermione shook her head in sympathy, tapping the brick wall to Diagon Alley with her wand as she did so. "Ron, did it occur to you that Harry and Ginny may have wanted to get out of the house early for their own, private reasons- reasons which _don't_ concern you?" She teased. "I mean, it's got to be hard for them. Living in a house full of Weasleys, constantly in the eyes of her older brothers-"

Ron interrupted her with a shudder. "Okay, okay, I get it. Just… forget I asked. When it comes to Harry and Ginny, I think I'm happier to be left in the dark."

"And as for the press… well, we can't stay indoors forever, you know," Hermione continued. "These days, we're always either at the Burrow, the Ministry or helping out with the repair work at Hogwarts, and even then people still seem to find the time and space to hassle us. I think it was an excellent suggestion to just make a surprise appearance. Whether he likes it or not, Harry is the face of the future for these people. It'll give them hope to see him settling back into a normal life."

Ron had nothing to say to that, and Hermione understood. They walked together through the newly made arch, palms brushing, but not quite held, as the street grew wider to make room for the bustling crowds who were swarming together and seizing the chance to make profits from the recent tragedy of their world. Things were looking up for the economy of the wizarding population.

Slowly, with much trepidation, they drew nearer to their destination: Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. The tiny shop was looking a little worse for wear, with dusty windows and a shabby structure, and definitely in need of a decent paint job, but then, such was the quality of every shop in Diagon Alley these days. What was more important, was the large, bright sign in the corner of the window, announcing the re-opening of the parlour, in loving memory of its founder; Florean Fortescue. And what was more important still, were the quiet quartet seated outside one of it's windows, basking in the sunlight around a small table.

Harry. Ginny. Neville. Luna. The four of them were sitting in a secluded spot, looking nervously around at the milling pedestrians. Hermione steered Ron in the direction of the table, and caught Ginny's eye with a smile.

"Ron! Hermione!" Ginny called, waving to them. "What took you so long?" She suddenly grinned mischievously. "On second thoughts, I don't really think I want to know what my brother gets up to when he and his girlfriend have the house to themselves."

"Oi, pack it in," Ron muttered grouchily, punching his sister on the arm by way of greeting. "Hi Neville, Luna."

"Hello, Ronald, hello Hermione." Luna replied, smiling serenely, while Neville waved at the two of them.

"Hello, everyone," Hermione said with a nervous smile, sitting down in the empty chair beside Neville as Ron took his place on her other side. She studied her best friend's face with apprehension. This was the first time Harry was willingly going out into the public eye, without any obligations to the press or the ministry. Just hanging out with his old school friends, trying to fit a normal life back into the mess Voldemort had left for him.

He seemed okay though, as he smiled back at her.

"Alright, Hermione?" He asked quietly. "You look worried."

"I _am_ worried," she told him truthfully. "Mostly about what Kingsley and Mrs. Weasley and everybody else will say when they find out you've been sneaking around Diagon Alley without their Auror supervision."

But Harry just laughed. "I've been meaning to give them the slip for weeks. They've got to let me free sooner or later," he said. "And besides, I wasn't sneaking around on my own. I was walking in broad daylight with Ginny. No invisibility cloak, nothing."

Hermione frowned. "But… surely you'd have been mobbed without the cloak!" She exclaimed incredulously. "Did no one even try to stop you?"

Ginny grinned. "It seems that people just don't notice what they're not expecting to see." She explained. "We even managed to go into a few shops." Her face fell at that, and Hermione knew what she was thinking. It would be a long time before the hype died down, and Harry could really wander into shops on his own. Despite their perceived success today, she didn't doubt that if Harry had actually spoken with the shopkeepers, he would have been recognised straight away.

"Well, it's a good start," Neville encouraged. "And you're here now, and there've been no photographers yet…"

"Oh, they'll come," Ron said with a grimace. "I give it ten minutes tops before they realise you're here."

"Did you manage to buy any school supplies for next year, Ginny?" Hermione asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"No, not yet," Ginny sighed. "But Luna hasn't either. Maybe the three of us could go together after this? If we make it out alive, that is."

"Okay," Hermione accepted readily, and Luna nodded dreamily. She seemed to be fixing her gaze, not on Hermione, but on the point above her right shoulder. No doubt thinking up some mysterious new creature that could be lurking there.

"I've got to get some supplies, too," Neville piped up. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts, but I've spoken to Professor McGonagall, and she's agreed to let me sit my NEWT in Herbology this year. And Gran's got me a job up in Surrey. I'll be spending a lot of time doing fieldwork this year for experience, so I've got to buy myself some proper Herbologist tools."

"That's great, Neville," Harry said, with very real enthusiasm.

"If those three swan off to go shopping, you'll be left with just me and Luna to protect you, Harry," Ron said with a grin. "The Aurors'll be _really_ horrified when they see the pictures."

"He won't just have us," Luna piped up, her eyes bulging with excitement as she surveyed the air around Neville and Hermione's heads. "There's a very peculiar atmosphere around here- tense, yet comfortable. There must be some Drowsing Ploowigs somewhere. They'll protect you." And then she launched into a detailed and extremely amusing explanation of just how these _Ploowigs_ were able to latch themselves to the toenails of passers-by, and their symbiotic relationship with the infamous Gurdyroot plant.

"I think I'll get our orders," Harry said with a wry grin at Ginny. "Be sure to take notes; I want you to fill me in on everything I've missed once I get back."

"I'll help you," said Hermione, getting to her feet as Luna's explanation turned to the physical aspects of the Ploowigs; focusing in particular on their many purple-and-spotty appendages.

Ron grinned knowingly as he listened to enthusiasm to the ludicrous story Hermione was trying to escape from. Neville gave Luna a politely interested smile and Ginny kicked Harry's leg underneath the table.

Hermione moved away from the table, and Harry followed; together they both walked inside and towards the till at the back of the tiny shop.

"Maybe…" said Hermione, as something suddenly occurred to her. "Maybe I should order. I mean…"

Harry gave her a smile; it was neither happy, nor sad, but it was understanding.

"I've got to start integrating myself back into the real world sooner or later, right? I might as well start here," he said.

"The real world…" Hermione mused.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said. "It's just… I used to think of it like that. Our world- the wizarding world –and the real world. And I used to wonder when I'd have to go back. When I'd wake up to find that it's all just been a dream. And what would happen afterwards."

Harry smiled again. "Me too," he said. "But this is the real world for us now, isn't it? I mean… we have family here."

He turned with a glance back to the four friends sitting at the rickety table outside, and Hermione did the same, with a fond glance at the two redheads especially.

"Yes," she said happily. "Family."

A polite cough suddenly broke through her happy daze, and she turned to find an elderly man watching them with nostalgia in his eyes.

"Mr. Potter," he said quietly. His face was carefully cautious, but his tone was unsurprised. "It _is_ you, isn't it?"

"Er… yeah," Harry mumbled, averting his eyes from the old man's gaze. "Yeah, it is."

The man said nothing more, he simple nodded and smiled. Thinking it best to get back into the open street as quickly as possible, Hermione selected a few ice creams from the selection before them and gave the man their order.

"My name is Gaius Fortescue," the man told them in a brittle, but oddly gentle tone, as he bustled about the shop, collecting their order. "And I believe my brother knew you, Mr. Potter."

Hermione felt her stomach drop as Harry nodded very slowly.

"Yes," he said, "Yes, I knew him."

"He spoke very highly of you, sir," Mr. Fortescue told Harry with a sad smile. "Said you were ever so clever, and polite… one of his best customers one summer month."

Hermione couldn't help it; one lone tear fell from the corner of her eye as she saw Harry's expression. After so much death, so many people had turned to him with words of praise he didn't want to receive. Still, he did what he could to live up to the people's expectations of their hero.

"I remember," he said quietly. "He was a good man. He used to help me with my homework- he knew loads about the goblin rebellions, and he made it all sound so interesting. And on the days I sat here the longest, he used to bring me free ice-creams and keep me company."

Hermione picked up the saddened tone of her best friend's voice better than Mr. Fortescue's- and she realised that it would do no good to bring back those memories now. They'd all had enough loss over the past few years. Harry sounded so sad and mournful, but he also sounded tired. He was supposed to be taking a break from these things to face the outside world. Hermione had thought that the outside would be different, but it seemed that the death and destruction had spread far wider than she'd even thought to acknowledge. How strange, that she'd never considered the impact Voldemort had had on the lives of the ordinary people, the ones who weren't directly affected by his reign of terror.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Mr. Potter," Mr. Fortescue said simply, as he passed their order over the counter and Harry fished out some gold with an awkward smile. "It was truly an honour."

Hermione suddenly felt very claustrophobic in the small shop, and she was sure Harry did too, because in an instant they were both thanking the old shopkeeper and hurrying to be back outside in the sunlight with their friends. Hermione's hands trembled as she placed the ice creams down in front of each of them, but she relaxed slightly when she saw Harry putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder as she gazed up at him reassuringly.

She smiled as she placed the last ice cream in front of Ron and bent down to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I love you," she whispered in his ear, suddenly feeling particularly vulnerable in the bright, late summer light. She wrapped her arms around him even tighter and dropped a kiss on his forehead. "_Love_ you."

Normally, Hermione would feel uncomfortable with such a public display of affection, but not today. They had been through too much, waited too long, for comfort to play much part in their decisions afterward. After having waited so long to say those three words, she'd been scared to say them at all at first, and it was still mind-boggling to let herself actually speak the thoughts she'd harboured away for so long. But today was different. Today, she needed to say them, because of Mr. Fortescue's words, because of the imminent arrival of their worst fears… and simply because they were true. But most of all, she needed to hear them back. Hermione could be stubborn and brave and clever, but at the best of times, she could also be extremely insecure.

"Love you, too," Ron said, grinning up at her with enthusiasm. "You 'kay?"

Hermione smiled. Ron could be so unobservant at times, yet nowadays, he never seemed to miss a thing.

"Just a little scared," she admitted.

Luckily, at that moment, Trevor the toad created a diversion by hopping sloppily onto their table, making a leap for freedom, only to be distracted by the mountain of ice cream Harry had just placed beside Luna's chair.

"Trevor!" Neville sighed loudly, quickly summoning him back before Luna's ice cream could be devoured. But the ice cream was now the least of their worries. Hermione heard the sudden whispers and excited babble as the milling crowds stopped and turned to face their direction after Neville's outburst. Through the chatter, she caught a few snippets of conversation; "_Harry Potter! Look, right over there, next to the redhead… the Weasley girl, look, you know the rumours surrounding those two… You-Know-Who… the snake, chopped it clean off with this whopping great sword, so I heard… Granger girl, last I saw her, it was the front page of the Daily Prophet…_"

"Here it comes," Hermione said worriedly. "Are you sure you're ready for this, Harry?"

"Dunno," Harry told her, with mock seriousness. "I mean, we've saved the Philosopher's stone. We've fought basilisks and dragons and helped a convicted criminal, started an underground illegal student rebellion, destroyed horcruxes- and oh yeah, we kind of defeated Voldemort too, didn't we? But tabloid reporters? That's got to be the most terrifying thing we've ever faced."

"Er, most of that stuff _you_ did, mate," Ron said.

"Nah," Harry replied- but this time, his tone was not at all sarcastic. "I'm serious. Everything I've done, at least one of you guys has had my back. And that's why we're facing this together."

Hermione beamed. There were no words that could be said, but each of them knew that their presence on that table was enough.

"Bring it on," Neville announced, breaking the ice, and the other five cracked small grins as a short, slightly balding man stepped onto the paving stones in front of them and tried to levitate his microphone inconspicuously above their table.

"'Sides, if anything does go wrong, we can handle it, right?" Ron asked, grinning happily at Hermione- a fully fledged, proper grin that she hadn't seen him use in a while. Not out in public surrounded by curious onlookers, anyway.

"Exactly," Ginny said, punching Harry's arm playfully and rolling her eyes when the crowd before their table began to chatter excitedly at the mundane gesture. "We've made it through the worst part. We've survived the war and the aftermath. Whatever comes next is a piece of cake, right?"

"Easy for you to say," Harry muttered darkly, as a horribly familiar reporter made her way pushing through the crowd, acid-green pen in hand. "But don't worry, you'll understand soon enough. You'll be front page news now, you know."

"Good," she teased, and Hermione couldn't help but smile at Ginny's easygoing attitude. "Then, I'll be able to fully understand why what other people think is such a big deal to you."

Harry pretended to grimace, but he couldn't quite keep out the chuckle that escaped his lips as he pulled Ginny closer to him. The first cameras arriving on the scene began to click madly.

And with that, Hermione was convinced. Just like that, she knew it would all be okay.

She would never have to fight again. She would never have to choose between her head and her heart, never have to turn her back on an education and a future she longed for, never have to say goodbye to her family. She would never have to grieve for fifty people all at once, just trying desperately to make it through each day of the horrific aftermath a war brings with it. And most importantly, she would never have to worry about what happened _after_. Because there would never be any disasters, and so they would never bring any consequences. Ever.

Not if she could help it.

* * *

THE END

* * *

A/N: I know some people will be a bit disappointed that I skipped over the early days of R/Hr. But I like to write original missing moments, and it's been done a million other times by people with so much more talent than myself. If you'd like me to write it though, feel free to leave a request in the reviews. I love hearing from readers.

To those of you on my alerts list: I'm about halfway through the next chapter of Thy Beauty. It's a long one: Edward thinks far too much, and it's so hard trying to cram in all of his thoughts!

Reviews are better than Florean Fortescue's ice creams. Go on, review, you know you want to!


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